For the dare post, I dare you to post something from the last chapter of TMO. I just read something I swear bites off your ideas, and I want to read it from the master <333
Hey, nonnie :) God, I don’t even remember that dare post. Lately I’ve seen people reblog stuff from me that I don’t even remember posting. Must be a random post from my archives? I went searching and found one that said something about posting a paragraph from an unposted work or WIP. I will assume you mean that. And, again, I hate everyone’s fascination with this chapter. If there are errors, I apologize. I started crying just copying and pasting so I wasn’t going to fix anything.
Take Me Over - The End of Swans
“D-do you remember, Uncle Blaine,” Eva said, running a hand through Blaine’s curls, still so soft and springy, even though they were snowy white now instead of glossy black, “when we first moved to L.A.?” Eva laughed. She could picture that afternoon so clearly in her mind, she could swear it all happened yesterday. “I was in a wheelchair with a broken leg, and you were running me around the grass? There were ducks in the pond. A whole family of them …”
“Were there swans in the pond, Daisy?” Blaine asked, straining to finish the sentence.
Eva nodded. “Yes,” she said, sniffling, running a hand beneath his eyes. Charley handed her a tissue. “Yes, there were, Uncle Blaine.”
There weren’t swans at the park that day. Not real ones, of course. Blaine was referring to the four children that he had grown to love as his own. One swan with a wobbly gait and a twisted leg was Barbra. She had actually played a swan in a middle school play. One swan with abnormally large wings was Elphie. She had worn a white robe when she graduated from medical school, one with big sleeves that flared at the cuffs, that Kurt and Dave joked looked like wings. It was a particularly windy day, and they were afraid a swift wind would pick her up and carry her away. They laughed a little too hard at that joke, but that was only to hide the tears in their eyes. One swan was Finn in his football jersey, a quarterback like his father. And one swan was Eva, in that beautiful wedding dress Kurt sewed for her by hand. She’d danced the father daughter dance with Kurt, Dave, and Blaine that night, along with a photo of her father on his own wedding day pinned inside her hem.
By the time the song was over, only Eva and Blaine.
Blaine could see the four of them in his head running and cawing, laughing and playing, spreading out their wings, growing into their own, getting ready to fly their separate ways away.
But in Blaine’s vision, there was a fifth swan, a black swan, bigger than them all, shooing the swans off into the sky even though Blaine could tell by the look in its blue eyes, it was breaking this swan’s heart.
“And … was there a black swan, Daisy?” Blaine asked, breathing hard. “With the … with the baby white ones?”
Eva squeezed her eyes tight. No, she thought. She wasn’t ready. Not yet. It was too soon. “Yes, Uncle Blaine,” she said, even though her voice trembled. “Yes, there was.” She remembered as a child Blaine calling her Uncle Kurt his “black swan”. It was a nickname, she discovered later in life, that had originated in the bedroom, and followed him around fondly. After Kurt died, Blaine never mentioned the black swan again. If he sees one, then that must mean that Kurt had come back to take him home. And Eva, as much as it broke her heart, had to let him go. “Why don’t you follow it, Uncle Blaine,” she suggested, holding tight to his hand, “and see where it goes?”